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Thursday, 30 June 2011

Working for The Man

Living my luxurious lifestyle, filled with cocaine and Crunchy Nut (c), has its costs. And I mean money, not the impoverished people that make my favourite things. Therefore, money must be gained in some way. Traditional ways include: robbery, eBay, working the stock market and prostitution, the second oldest vocation in the world. The first being eBay.

This left me to follow the untraditional. I tried to get a job. Being of a youthful generation, I couldn't just print out a CV and go round places asking for jobs. That's old fashioned, man. Such a drag. The internet would help me, as it does with nearly everything else I do. Apart from being a genius that is, that's all my failure. I searched the website, Gumtree, which was a spectacular failure, yet if you want to become a teacher, it's magnificent.

I have neither the time nor the qualifications nor the patience nor the permanent smell of booze to become a teacher. Bust.

This left me looking at corportate websites' "Careers" pages to help me out. I eventually found one at VUE Cinemas. If you've never applied online before, you usually fill in a form with lies to blag yourself into an interview. An interVUE in this case.

Ha ha.

Let's not digress. Interview was offered, I accepted wholeheartedly, as I'm a stand-up guy. Went to the interview, dressed rather formally with a shirt that had buttons and trousers which had a zip. Classy, eh? Questions were asked, examples of certain situations where I had to deal with problems or customer service and whatnot. Once again, I passed with flying colours through the gift of the gab.

I mean, yno, lying.

Let's fast forward to the induction where I learned how to pick up a box, the science behind tripping over something, fire's Latin name is Mr Sands and I'm the lowest of the low so don't ask questions. We had to pass health'n'safety tests, which were made easier by the guy giving me the answers. I'll remember the answers when I need to. It's cool.

More fast forwarding and many episodes of LOST watched in the meantime, and I started work. It was on the tills for my first shift, which led to me dealing with "the public". Lowering myself. It's disgusting. Somebody asked for a refund within the first half hour. I had to call the manager. That's not a good thing to do, considering there are more managers than other staff. And they wonder why nobody goes to the cinema anymore.

Except...they do. In Fulham, money rains from the sky and wherever else it wishes. This is why I sold over £100 worth of popcorn and drinks to one group of five people. Ridiculous. That could've bought 18 LIDL brand mosquito nets. People asked me what I thought of films and I had to lie and say "It's worth the majority of that tenner you're giving me." So many personal mentras broken to keep a job at minimum wage. I also got a complaint that my ice cream scoops were not big enough. Fuck off.

Due to my work at the till, I am being formally investigated as there was £30 extra in my till than there should have been. I really have no idea why. Will I get the sack? No. It won't happen. If it does, I'll complain about the size of their ice cream scoops.

My next shift had me working on the floor, a test of stamina which lasts nearly seven hours. One basically cleans the cinemas after films have finished and get them ready for the next audience. Picking up rubbish and cleaning floors. Real bottom rung stuff that builds character as bullshitters love to say. After cleaning 15 piles of spilled popcorn in an hour really takes its toll as you begin to forget what real life is like. I saw a bottle of Coca Cola on the street and immediately reached for a non-existant broom to clean it up.

The tramp wasn't best pleased.

Another segment of the working day is based around toilet checks. We should check them once every 15 minutes. I checked them once in two hours. Maybe. Still filled in the forms as paperwork must be done correctly. Same with the piracy checks, which I've done six, maybe. And we don't get night-vision, that's total bullshit right there.

To be clear, cinemas are filthy and you can be a pirate, because everyone is like me. Yet, I still earn money for doing this in extreme amounts of hours. Not extreme, twenty. Whatever.

And in one day on the till, I saw more money than I would make in a month. Fuck Fulham.

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